


Unison

by Braincoins



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (sort of), Dragon Age AU, F/M, Fingering, First Time, Fluff, Flut, I've mostly kept this to Tumblr but this one got long, Love Confessions, Mind Meld, Shallura as Grey Wardens, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29508069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: Shiro needs to talk with Allura about the arm she made for him and about... something else that he's being mysterious about. Surely it's nothing bad, right?
Relationships: Allura/Shiro (Voltron)
Kudos: 5





	Unison

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, because [@tybalt-tisk](https://tybalt-tisk.tumblr.com/) is gracious and understanding, I did some DA Shallura flut for her. (I wuvoo, Tybbikins!) For those who don’t know, Dragon Age is a medieval fantasy RPG video game. Grey Wardens… well, I did a summary of them [here](https://braincoins.tumblr.com/post/638326953632546816/but-socks-you-as-the-convenient-strawperson), but if you don’t want to read all that (understandable; I am a wordy bitch), the short version is they are super tragic badasses and they’re all kind of each other’s found family. You’re probably best served by reading [THIS](https://braincoins.tumblr.com/post/183014427613/not-sure-this-would-work-or-fit-into-a-ficlet) first, honestly. Errr, and maybe [THIS](https://braincoins.tumblr.com/post/183066931233/for-yslanam-because-the-grey-warden-shallura). v__v
> 
> Also, I have [a headcanon about Grey Wardens](https://braincoins.tumblr.com/post/634901306136559616/various-grey-warden-headcanons), especially those who have been Wardens for a while, being able to sort of... know what the other Wardens will do. It's not quite a mind meld thing so much as an extension of the darkspawn taint in them, but I decided to make the most of it here. ^_^

Allura came out of her room, intending to head to the mess for breakfast, and nearly ran right into Shiro’s chest. “Oh! Sorry!”

“N-no, no, it’s my fault!” he rushed to say, taking a couple steps back. He was so adorable when he was embarrassed. “I was just about to knock.”

“Can we discuss whatever it is over breakfast?” she asked. And she meant it as a serious question. She and Shiro had become very close, occasionally slipping off together for secret kissing sessions that were growing increasingly heated. So finding him outside her door wasn’t unexpected. But it was a little early for such romantic nonsense, and it was entirely possible – even likely – that he was here because of an order. The two of them had become a fighting unit very early on, and it was rare that one of them was sent out on a mission without the other.

If Duncan had sent Shiro to find her for a mission, she wanted to know if she could at least _eat_ first, or if things were bad enough that she’d have to make do on the road.

“Of course,” he said. “It’s not urgent.” He offered her his right arm.

And she smiled, because it was the arm she’d made for him, the one of silverite and blood magic, the one he’d been terrified of touching her with. That he offered it to her now…

She stepped out into the hall, pulling her door closed before accepting the arm. “You’re getting used to it now, I see.”

He nodded. “I am.”

He was still wearing a glove over the hand though. And, for the first time, she noticed that he was not in uniform at all. He didn’t bother wearing full uniform when they were in the keep here, but he was usually wearing the black shirt and pants, so that he could armor up appropriately when needed.

He was still wearing the black pants, but he had a simple undyed shirt on, with the long sleeves rolled up in deference to the warmer weather.

“Shiro, what is this?” She was in her usual Warden “regalia” (if it could be called such), and so she was feeling… oddly overdressed.

“My arm. You made it for me.”

She snorted. “What are you up to?” she insisted. Because she _knew_ he was up to something, she could _feel_ it. Even if she didn’t know Shiro as well as she did, living in the Tower, surrounded by other bored children and teens, she’d learned to sense when someone was scheming. It was how one survived the endless series of prank wars.

“Up to? Why would y-…?”

“Cut the shit, Shiro,” she warned him, a grin spreading across her face and ruining her attempt to be stern. “You are a man with a _plan_.”

He cleared his throat. “Damn. As usual, you saw right through me.”

She was pleased with herself, but she wasn’t letting her guard down. “What is it?”

“We’re discussing it over breakfast, remember?”

“We are,” she began, but her stomach grumbled. “…Discussing it over breakfast.”

He escorted her to the mess, and she tore herself away from him in favor of the food that had been set out. She loaded a plate with sausages, eggs, and a large, thick slice of warm bread slathered in jam.

“You’re eating like a new recruit,” he teased. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think…”

“Your breakfast isn’t so small,” she observed. Fewer sausages, perhaps.

“I was up early getting some more practice in,” he told her. He didn’t have to specify what he was practicing.

The new arm had taken a lot of getting used to. A LOT. It had terrified him for a long time, and she’d been horrified at what she’d unleashed when she was just trying to _help him_. But he was now determined to learn everything about it and what it could do, to control it and make it respond as he wished, with actions both large and small.

He had little need to practice sword forms or shield defense, and certainly no need to get up _early_ to do so. But practicing with the arm was different; he could easily – and badly – hurt a fellow Warden if he weren’t careful. So he did that alone.

“How’d it go?”

“Fine, actually. I think I’m… I think it’s okay now.” He grabbed a mug of water and headed for their usual spot, just a little way from the other Wardens who were breaking their own fasts.

She did likewise. “You’re sure?”

“Mostly,” he admitted. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk with you about.”

“Want me to look it over?”

“Yes.” He set his plate and mug down on the table, took a seat on the bench. “Maybe… maybe somewhere, um…”

“Private?” She took her accustomed seat next to him.

He nodded as he began cutting up his sausages and eggs. “If you’re not busy.”

“I’m not,” she agreed. “Did you have somewhere in mind?”

“My room?” he suggested.

“That should do fine.” She took a bite of her bread and chewed. She was more than happy to examine the arm in private. She was still uneasy about having used forbidden blood magic to get the arm to work properly. She was even more uneasy remembering how Shiro had screamed as she’d chanted the spell. It was _his_ blood for _his_ arm, he’d consented to it, it wasn’t as if she’d killed a child or anything. But she’d failed to take into account that the darkspawn taint in their blood might… interact with the magic strangely.

Grey Wardens did whatever they had to, using whatever methods would get the job done. And, now, after… what, almost a year?... the job was finally done, or nearly so. Shiro had an arm again, to replace the one he’d lost in battle before he’d come to join the Wardens. It was strong, lightweight, worked as arm and shield and a strange weapon in its own right.

Still, she didn’t admit to him that many of her nightmares now centered on him. On the arm. On some evil force within it somehow taking him over or hurting him or even killing him, all while she watched, helpless, knowing that she was the one to blame for it.

_This will be good,_ she thought as she chewed her breakfast. _Perhaps once I see that everything is alright now, those particular nightmares will stop._ She still had more, of course. With the glory and honor of being a Warden came the burden of the nightmares, of knowing your life would end sooner, and what awaited you at the end of that road. She could handle all of that.

She couldn’t handle hurting Shiro.

She looked over at him and… he was still cutting his food into bites. “Can you not just _eat_?”

“What?” he asked. “I cut them up first, and then I eat.”

“You can cut and then eat.”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

“No, cut one piece, eat that, cut the next…”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because this,” she jerked her chin at his plate, “is dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” he asked, eyebrows rising and smile starting to spread across his lips. “In what way?”

Her hand flashed out and, with its equipped fork, stabbed a bite of egg. She was just pulling it back when he grabbed her arm.

“Maybe it was dangerous for _you_ ,” he told her, grinning now with his triumph. “Back in the Tower with all those slow mages.”

She matched his grin with her own, then leaned forward, bringing her mouth to the fork instead of the other way around. She ate her bit of stolen egg in triumph.

He released her arm and shook his head in amusement. “Lesson learned.” He began eating.

“What else was there?”

“Hm?” He had his mouth full.

“You said that the arm was _one_ of the things you wanted to talk with me about.”

There were no words in reply since he was still chewing, but he… he _blushed_.

She arched an eyebrow. “Shiiirooo?”

He swallowed his food and reached for his mug. “I’d rather wait until we’re alone to discuss that.” He drank deep.

She considered this. He had specifically suggested _his_ room. And their last private smooch session had been _very_ intense, as she recollected.

_A small nook in a mostly unused hallway. Their bodies pressed together almost as close as their lips. His hands in her hair, sliding down, his left hand pressing her breast briefly, then hands at her waist, pulling her tight against him, and she could feel him reacting to her, feel the bulge in his pants pressed against her thigh through her uniform, and there was a desperation to the way he broke from her, pushed her the short distance away from him, the way he whipped his gaze away from her to the hallway, to make sure they were still alone, and how he couldn’t look at her as he suggested they call it a night and return to their separate rooms._

She scooped some more food into her mouth, set her fork down, and just happened to let her hand drift down beneath the table. Down to his thigh, where she let it rest.

He glanced at her, narrowed his eyes, but kept eating.

She smiled as she slid her hand up towards his crotch.

He caught her hand en route. “Allura,” he hissed at her, wary of the other Wardens. True, there was no one in their _immediate_ vicinity, but they were still in a mess hall full of their fellows in the order.

“Everyone else is eating and drinking and talking,” she whispered back, barely audible above the din, she was sure. “They won’t notice.”

“ _I’ll_ notice.”

She winked at him. “That’s the idea.”

“And they’ll notice when I have to stand up to leave.”

“Oh fine.” She pulled her hand away. “I have food to finish anyway.” She picked up her fork again to resume eating.

He was wary of her, but eventually continued with his own meal.

“Were those the _only_ things you wanted to discuss?” she asked him.

“I did want to eat breakfast with you.”

She chuckled. “Breakfast, the arm, this Mysterious Third Thing, and… anything else?”

“The third thing is not what you seem to think it is.”

“Pity. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“No, that’s all of it,” he confirmed, just before scraping his plate of the last bits of food.

She blinked. “How did you finish before me?”

“Because I cut all my food up first!” He stood. “See you in a bit then?”

She nodded and watched him take his plate and mug over to one of the servants. She smiled. Shiro was just thoughtful like that, where some of the higher born (or just lazier) Wardens would leave messes in their wake because they knew there were servants around to pick up after them. Shiro did what he could, when he could, always; he never looked down on the servants or went out of his way to make more work for them. If anything, he made less; she was fairly certain he still woke up and immediately made his own bed every morning. She didn’t, but then she’d never made her bed back at the Tower, and so had gotten quite a few lectures about it.

She finished eating, trying not to hurry. A recruit walked past her, murmuring something about, “You gonna chase after him, as usual?”

She said nothing as he _accidentally_ tripped and smashed his jaw on the floor. She just rose elegantly from her seat, brought her own dishes to a servant, and let someone else tend to the smarmy young man and his suddenly and mysteriously frozen foot.

She happened to overhear the recruit being warned about saying such things to either her or Shiro in the future. “She can be pretty mean; best not to say anything to either of them.”

She mused over things as she walked to Shiro’s room. She supposed she was ‘meaner’ than Shiro; if he’d been there for that recruit’s comment, he would have told her to leave it alone. He’d grown up in a small village where everyone knew everyone else. He’d grown up with a loving family, with neighbors who looked out for each other. His nature bent towards cooperation, instinctively.

Hers bent towards competition. That’s how it was in the alienage, scrabbling for every copper that the shems would let you have. The Circle was the same way, except you were competing for the favor of Senior Enchanters while simultaneously trying to avoid the gaze of the Templars. She’d spent her whole life yelling at anyone who would hear about the injustice done towards elves and mages, fighting and scraping for as long as she could.

She hesitated outside his door. Whatever he wanted to talk to her about, besides the arm, she had a feeling it was a Big Deal to him. Big Deals usually meant change. She hoped this was a good change. She’d been thinking of their last intimate session together as a good sign, chalking up his reticence to shyness, but… what if it had been something else? What if this was the end of whatever they had together?

He was her calm little island in a sea of chaos and blood. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and that included becoming a Grey Warden. (Of course, once you became a Warden, you found out it wasn’t all glory and honor, but this was still better than life back in the Tower.) When she was with Shiro, she didn’t have to yell or fight, she could just _be_. She could just be who she was and he accepted her. He… He loved her, didn’t he?

He’d said he loved her, during all the crying and confessions about the arm. The arm and its strange abilities had seemed more important, a more pressing problem, so she’d never yet returned those words. But she’d remembered them, felt them echo in her heart as she fell asleep.

_Does he think I don’t love him? Is he tired of waiting for me to say it?_ They were just words. Were her actions not enough? Maybe not. Not for him.

She’d almost lost him once already, when he’d pulled away from her because of the arm. She’d feared all of this gone for good then, and it had torn her apart inside. She wasn’t sure she could go through that again. Oh, her body would survive, but she was convinced that whoever came out the other end of that wouldn’t be _her_.

She looked at the wood of the door and felt keenly afraid for the first time in a long time. But she had to see this through. She knocked twice, briskly, and reminded herself that there was no reason to think something bad would happen.

“Come in!” his voice called from the other side. He sounded cheery, didn’t he?

_Oh, by the Maker_ , she huffed at herself. She opened the door and walked in…

…to find the curtains drawn, the candles lit, and a bouquet being held out to her. She gasped and smiled. “You found dawn lotuses!” She accepted the flowers and cradled them to her, closing her eyes as she inhaled their scent.

He cleared his throat, smiling. “I found a merchant who sells dawn lotuses,” he clarified, walking over to shut the door behind her.

She looked up to him. “You remembered I like them.”

His smile widened. “Of course I did.”

“Is this the third thing then?”

“Part of it,” he agreed.

Her heart eased out of its anxiety. Would he buy her flowers only to call an end to their romance? It seemed out of character for him.

“Let’s check the arm first.”

“Oh, right.” She looked around and, having no better place to lay the flowers, set them on his bed. “Am I allowed to open the curtains for this?”

“Um.” She wasn’t sure, but she thought he might be blushing again. “I’d rather you didn’t, but if you have to…”

“Let me see what I can manage in the candlelight.” She held her hands out to him.

He nodded, stepped close, and held his right arm out for her. He’d already removed the glove.

She closed her eyes again, this time to focus on the feel of magic instead of the scent of flowers. It was immediate, like a snake rising up. But the magic and the taint and the runes all… melded together. If this were a snake, it was one that wasn’t about to strike. Not her, not here. The threat of death lurked, not entirely tamed, but… complacent, controlled. For now.

And buried beneath all of it was the thrum of Shiro’s life force, nearly as strong here as if she had her hand against his chest. The arm was truly _his_ now, truly part of him, and the sense of _him_ was strong here, almost like an actual arm wielding a weapon.

She opened her eyes and nodded. “It feels good.” She explained to him how it had felt to her, and he smiled in relief.

“It feels like _you_ ,” she finished, “plus all that other stuff, but definitely you.”

He sighed, “Maker be praised,” and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Thank you. For all of it. The arm, the magic, the… just all of it.”

She chuckled dryly. “Did you ever think you’d be thanking me for this arm?”

“Yes,” he said instantly.

“Liar.”

“Never.”

“Never?” she asked, pulling away from him so he could see her grin. “What about when you told those women that you were a happily-married man with three children and one on the way and you were hurrying home to your wife?”

He was _definitely_ blushing. “That was just to get them to leave me alone.”

“It was still a liiiiiiie,” she sing-songed.

“They kept trying to pinch my butt!”

“Can’t blame them there,” she purred, sliding her arms around him and starting to dip her hands lower along his body.

He reached back and took hold of her hands. “Allura.”

“Shiro?” she asked brightly.

He pulled away just enough so her hands would be in front of him again. “Do you not want to know about the third thing? Because if you pinch me, I am going to make you wait for it.”

“You’ve already made me wait!” she protested.

“You’ll wait longer.”

“How much longer?”

“ _Days_.”

She gasped in mock-outrage. “You wouldn’t!” she exclaimed in the manner of overwrought thespians everywhere.

“ _WEEKS_.”

“You _couldn’t!_ ” she charged.

He laughed and raised her hands to his lips. “You’re right. If I wait another minute, I might burst.” He kissed her knuckles on each hand, despite her wearing her usual gloves.

She knew she was the one blushing now. “So? Get on with it then.” Her demand was softened by his sweet behavior.

Keeping hold of her hands, he lowered himself to one knee. He looked up into her eyes, exhaled softly, and said, “Allura, I love you.”

She blinked. “I… know. You said.”

His brow furrowed. “Did I?”

She laughed, the tension finally snapping for good. “Is that what this is all about?”

He got back to his feet. “I can’t say I imagined this outcome. And I imagined a lot of them.”

“You told me you loved me when we were… when it all came out about the arm! Don’t you remember?”

“Obviously not,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and looking sheepish. “It’s all kind of a blur of yelling and crying and holding each other.”

She tsked softly and stepped in to kiss him. “I took your keeping away from me as a rebuke, because I was the one who had done this,” she gently squeezed his right arm, where silverite met flesh, “to you. And you said you’d stayed away because you were afraid _for_ me, not _of_ me, because you loved me and didn’t want to hurt me with it.”

He sighed. “Well, now I feel foolish.”

“Don’t,” she told him instantly. “It’s good to hear again. Formally. I-in fact, I was a little worried before I came in that… that maybe you were ending things with me.”

He straightened up, eyes wide. “What?! How could I _ever_ …?!”

She shrugged. “You said you loved me, but I’ve never said it back to you.” When he eased down, she continued, “And you pulled away from me – _pushed_ me away, really – the last time we were together, so I thought…”

“Ohhh… no, no, Allura, that wasn’t…”

She pressed a single finger against his lips. “I realize that now.” She smiled as she pulled her hand away. “You were just being adorably shy.”

His blush arose again. “Th-that’s also not it.” He cleared his throat.

She arched an eyebrow. “Well, _now_ I’m curious, but I feel like I owe you something first.”

A hopeful smile started to spread across his lips, even as he asked, “Do you?”

She smirked and asked, “Should I kneel to say it?”

“No, you-…”

But she was already doing it, taking his hands in hers and getting down on one knee. He was still blushing like a shy maiden, and she couldn’t handle how adorable he was from absolutely every angle. “Shiro, I love you.”

His blush deepened. “And I love you, too, Allura.” The warmth of the moment felt like it was wrapping her up, and then he tugged on her hands gently. “Now get up, that floor is terrible for kneeling on.”

She practically sprang off the floor, up and into his arms to kiss him as best she could while laughing.

“Say it!” she demanded, still holding onto him tightly.

“What, ‘I love you’? I already did!”

“No! Tell me why you pushed me away the other night.”

“O-oh.” He cleared his throat, looked away, tried to disengage.

She tightened her grip. “Is it… bad?” She knew he’d had a lover before, who’d died in the same fight that had taken Shiro’s arm. Perhaps he felt like he was treading on his memory? She didn’t want to push if that were the case.

“No, n-no, it’s not… I’m just.” His blush was back; she could almost _feel_ the heat in his cheeks from here. “I… we were…” He cleared his throat and murmured something so low that even her elven ears couldn’t pick it up.

“Shiro, there’s nothing you can’t say to me,” she told him.

He looked back to her, voice quiet, then closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. “I…” He took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled. “I didn’t want our first time together to be in a hallway.”

She blinked. _That_ was not something she’d expected.

“I didn’t want to just take you against a wall, rough and… You deserve better.” He hadn’t opened his eyes yet.

She smiled anyway. “You know it won’t be _my_ first time, right?” After all, you couldn’t shut a bunch of bored teenagers in rooms together and act _surprised_ at the inevitable.

“Nor mine,” he agreed. “But, for _us_ … it’d be _our_ first time, with each other, and I didn’t want to… it didn’t feel right.” He opened his eyes, cheeks burning. “And if we’d kept going, Allura, I…”

“Wouldn’t be able to control yourself?” she asked in quiet amazement. The idea of _Shiro_ being out of control… The _arm_ , sure, because it had taken him a while to get used to it, to learn how to control it, but Shiro _himself_?

He mumbled an agreement as if ashamed of himself, then chased it with, “Not that I would…! I mean, if you didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have…! That’s not what I…!”

“No, I know, beloved.” His face lit up when she said it. “I wouldn’t love you if you were the sort of man to do something like that.”

“I needed to cool off, that’s all. I’m sorry my actions hurt you.”

“Oh, not initially!” she exclaimed. It was her own turn for hurried explanations. “Just that you were being all Mysterious about whatever was going on, and you wanted to talk in private, and I just… Oh, I just started worrying over nothing, trying to find things to fret over.” She hugged him.

“So we were both silly,” he summed up, wrapping his arms around her.

“Yes.” She snuggled in against his chest and listened to the steady – if a bit rapid – thumping of his heart.

He pressed a kiss into her hair.

Then another one.

A kiss near her temple.

She looked up and he kissed her nose.

And then he kissed her lips and she returned it, sliding one of her hands up to press against the nape of his neck, to push him back down and keep him there, right where she wanted him. He “mmm”ed and held her tighter.

Normally, he let her deepen kisses, he followed _her_ lead, and she was more than okay with that. But this time, he took the initiative, his tongue slipping into her mouth, and she felt herself melting against him in his arms. He was a gentle man, a considerate man, thoughtful and sweet and not wanting to push himself on her, especially given the history between human men and elven women. And she appreciated that. That didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to feel him succumb to passion and desire for her. He was no sweaty shem forcing a wee elven maid; he was _Shiro_ , and she wanted him. She loved him. There was nothing wrong with…

She gasped as he tore away from her mouth to bend to her neck, pushing aside the collar of her uniform and sucking on the skin of her throat. Normally he kissed his way down, softly and sweetly. She tightened her grip on his shirt and moaned softly.

He raised a hand to her neck and with a quick flick of motion, loosened the brigandine of her uniform so he could have better access.

“For… someone who just had breakfast…” she managed around gasped breaths, “…you’re very… hungry.”

“I’ll stop when you tell me to,” he promised against her skin before moving to the other side of her neck.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” She slid both hands down now and started tugging at his shirt.

He cupped her face with both hands – the silverite was cooler than his flesh-and-blood hand – and kissed her deeply, eagerly. Then he whispered against her lips, “Tell me what you want, my love, and it’s yours.”

_Nnnn, why are you so romantic even when things are getting sexy?_ She was used to sex; romance was something else entirely. It made her blush, made her squirm impatiently, made her feel like a maiden all over again. “You,” she told him. “I want you.” She smiled and nuzzled his nose. “We have a bed here now, after all. Or do you need some sort of sunlight-dappled, rose-strewn bower…”

He cut her off with another hungry kiss. “The only thing I need now is for you to lock the door.”

She laughed. “Move my bouquet, will you? I don’t want it crushed.”

He released her to tend to her given task; she moved to the door to lock it and propped her staff against the door handle. She pulled off her gloves, unbuckled the stays on her brigandine, and, as she turned back towards the bed, she was pulled into Shiro’s embrace for another passionate kiss.

Her now-bare hands felt his skin as she slid them around his waist – he’d removed his shirt already. She luxuriated in the feel of her skin touching his. Not that this was new, but it was still special to her, to touch him for reasons other than battle or healing.

And he reacted to it, moaning against her mouth and holding her tighter. She let her hands explore his back, his shoulders, and as much of his arms, chest, and abdomen as she could get at like this.

_“I love you_ , _”_ said his voice in her memory. The declaration from just a few minutes ago, not the crying confession of months gone by. This was the one she’d remember now, Shiro down on one knee before her, holding her hands in his, looking up at her as he trusted her with his heart. In a way, that was more serious a burden than his life. Wardens danced with Death, flirted with it, teased it, right up until Death demanded the Warden make good on their promises and claimed them forever. Death was soon and certain and you accepted that as a Grey Warden. But...

But he had said it, said _I love you_ so earnestly, with such trust and faith in her…

She jerked her mouth away from his. “Say it again,” she demanded in a taut whisper.

“I love you,” he vowed before kissing her once more, and all the tension seemed to leave her body, save for the coiling anticipation within her.

And when her mouth was her own again, she swore, “And I love you, Shiro. For the rest of our lives and beyo-…” But he took her lips again, and she gave up trying to use words, especially when his hands were making short work of removing her uniform.

Their uniforms were similar once you removed the metal armor bits. Even if they hadn’t been, he’d helped her with it a few times, just the parts that weren’t too scandalous for the sweet country boy. So he knew what to do, even with his eyes closed and his lips on hers and his tongue in her mouth, panting against the heat they were generating. She helped him as best she could, breaking away as little as possible.

Shiro revered the Warden uniform, because they represented the people who had given him a purpose again, taken him in when no one else would. The Grey Wardens hadn’t seen him as ‘broken’ or ‘worthless’ because he had lost an arm in battle, and he loved them for that.

But here and now, he was tossing parts of it aside almost recklessly; even the tabard of the order was pulled over her head and then thrown across the room as he dove back in to resume his amorous attentions. It made her heart race even faster, this idea that he wanted her more than he wanted to honor some scrap of cloth (which she’d always thought of as silly: she was glad to be a Warden – proud even! – but the uniform was just still cloth and leather (in her case). It was symbolic, but it also easily mended, cleaned, or replaced).

He helped her off with her shirt, and now they were more or less even, though she had her brassiere on and he still had his belt; from the waist down, they were still equally-clad. He moved to kiss her again, and she paused him with a hand on his chest. She worked to catch her breath as she looked him in the eye.

“I don’t want to stop,” she told him. “But I also don’t want you to feel as if I’m pushing you.”

“I don’t feel that way at all,” he assured her, strong chest heaving beneath her palm. “And I want this, too.”

“Want what?” she pressed.

He blushed and he said it quietly, but he _did_ say, out loud, “I want to make love to you, Allura. Here, now.”

The heat flooded her and she smiled. “Good, because that’s what I want as well. And I just wanted to be sure that…”

“…we’re on the same page?” he finished for her. “Aren’t we always?”

She laughed a little, because they often completed each other’s sentences. “As usual, I shouldn’t have worried. Now then…” She bit her lip as she started unfastening his belt.

He groaned, raised her face with his hands and kissed her again. She threw the belt onto the pile of discarded clothing and uniform bits and began working on his pants. Or, she tried to: his hands were in the way as he began working on _her_ pants.

She broke away with a laugh. “Perhaps we should see to our own pants?”

He nodded. “We still have boots to get off, too.” He moved to sit on the bed and begin that process.

“You know, I never did ask...”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you have this nice room to yourself with such a big bed?” When she was a new recruit, she’d been in a dorm-style bunkhouse – rather reminiscent of the Tower’s Apprentices’ Quarters – and even now that she was formally a Warden, her room and bed were small and narrow.

Shiro blushed again. “I, uh… well, it’s sort of…” He cleared his throat as he pulled his first boot off.

She stopped her own de-booting and looked at him expectantly.

“Well, one day a few weeks ago, Duncan approached me. He bid me come with him and brought me here. He asked if I’d like to have this as my room. Naturally I said yes, but I was curious about why he was giving it to me.” The blush deepened as his second boot came off.

He stood up to unlace his pants as he continued his story. “He said he’d noticed that you and I were, um, ‘getting to be partners in more than one way’, as he put it. He thought we might, uh, have need of it soon.”

She laughed and resumed getting her boots off. “I wonder why he gave _you_ the room and not me. Maker knows Rohesia would _love_ to get her hands on my room, small as it is.”

“I asked that, too.” His hands stilled, and a tension began to curl around him. “He said that my arm was making some of the other men… nervous. He thought it was best…”

“…to get you away from the others so they’d stop worrying.”

He nodded.

She pulled her other boot off and stood up, laying a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Shiro.”

He turned to her and his smile pushed the tension away to the far corners of the room. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. It isn’t your fault that they get fidgety about a prosthetic arm.”

“Well, it kind of _is_ my fault, given how I did it and…”

He kissed her forehead. “In any case, I have a room with a bed big enough for the two of us. So if Rohesia still wants your room…”

She chuckled and hugged him. “You want to share a room with me? Oh, my heart’s all a-flutter!” She looked up. “Is this the Warden version of marriage?”

He snorted and didn’t answer that question, but his blush was back. “Will you though?”

“I’ll think about it,” she purred, running her hands down to the waistband of his pants. “Perhaps you can convince me.”

He arched an eyebrow. “And how do I do that?”

“I think you know how, ser.”

He was bending close to her, lips a whisper away from her when he murmured, “And I think I’m going to like convincing you.”

She kissed him and let her hands push his pants down, pressing her palms against the curves of his ass beneath his smallclothes. Better to forget the hows and whys of obtaining this room and focus instead on the fact that they were here with a door that locked and a bed big enough for two people to roll around beneath the sheets with each other.

He stepped out of his pants and caressed her in return; when he began to get her pants open, he kneeled as he pulled them down, and she felt something in her _keen_ like a ravening dog at seeing this strong, handsome shemlen willingly lower himself before her. _Later_ , she promised that part of herself. She stepped out of her pants and back into his arms as he stood up again, felt his caresses go lower, his hands – one metal, one flesh – grip her ass and pick her up.

She laughed as she threw her arms and legs around him, kissed him deeply, and let him spin her around so they could topple to the bed, dizzy with both motion and emotion. His mouth moved down along her body hungrily, barely stopping for more than the briefest of kisses here and there along her skin. She combed her fingers through his hair as she arched and writhed to get more of her body to his lips and tongue.

He teased her belly button and then sat up. The hand she’d made for him rested at the top of her smallclothes. “May I?”

She smiled. “Strip me naked and have me already,” she told him brazenly, though the demand couldn’t be made without blushing.

But it made him go practically red, so it was worth it, and he ducked his head and, with both hands now, slid the panties down along her legs. He bent to leave kisses in its wake: along her thigh, her knees, her calves.

“There’s something with the arm I want to practice,” he said as he tossed the article of clothing aside.

“Now?” she whimpered.

He came up to lay alongside her and precious silverite fingertips whispered from her collarbone down between her breasts and farther still along her frame. “Now,” he whispered in her ear, fingers toying near the top of the curls between her legs. “If you’ll let me.”

Her answer was to spread her legs and turn her head to him. He took her mouth for a kiss and the rest of it as the “Yes, _please_ ,” that it was, slipping two fingers down between her folds to stroke her and find that hidden center of pleasure there.

She moaned against his mouth, moved to press herself against him more, but he kept her there, body splayed out for his use and his gaze, though he was still kissing her, and thus, as far as she knew, his eyes were closed. _Hers_ certainly were, the better to focus on the feel of him, of _Shiro_ doing things to her she’d laid in her bed and dreamed of at night, with only her own hand between her legs.

_Come to think of it…_ She giggled a little at her own phrasing and laid one hand over his, the better to guide it, to make it do exactly as she wished it to. It was easier than she thought, as if the overlaying of their hands had had a similar effect on their minds. Orienting his hand and fingers was one thing, but it was like he understood when she wanted him to tease her and when she needed him to stop that and be direct in his attentions.

She gasped and pulled away from his mouth, needing more air than she could get while kissing him, but she had no thoughts of regret at the action. “Shiro,” she panted, “please…”

“Guide me,” he whispered, voice taut and hot, and she thought she’d come from the sound of his voice alone if he kept talking like that.

She grabbed at his hand, making sure two metal fingers stayed extended and together before she slid them inside herself. She hummed and arched a little, adjusting herself around the fingers and then proceeded to move his hand as if it were an empty gauntlet, an object to be used for her pleasure.

It was almost a surprise when the hand moved on its own – she _did_ gasp, but that had more to do with the metal thumb finding her clit again, rubbing _juuuust_ hard enough as he continued to plunge the two fingers in and out of her expertly. He was definitely watching her now, gaze cast along her body as she panted his name and rocked herself against his hand.

“And… to think…” she managed between breaths, “…you were… afraid to… hold my _hand_ …at one point…”

“You can still talk?” he whispered against her ear, breath hot against her cheek. “I’ll have to work harder.” He pulled his hand out and then gave her _three_ fingers instead.

She gave up trying to find words at all, or at least words beyond, “Yes,” “More,” and “Shiro.”

He bent to nibble at her earlobes, something that usually tickled lightly and made her blush and giggle, but combined with the ecstasy building within her, it broke a low moan out of her throat instead. His hand was steady and sure as he brought her nearer and nearer to the edge.

“I want to spend the rest of the day finding every way to make you come,” he whispered. “And the rest of our lives finding every way to make you smile.”

She wasn’t sure what happened first: her heart melting or her climax hitting. He kissed her cheek and eased his fingers out of her and let her catch her breath. She just lolled her head over so she could watch him as he licked his fingers clean.

“Maker’s _breath_ ,” she said when she could.

“Worry about your own,” he told her, kissing her forehead.

She grabbed hold of his shoulders to pull him down to her, to seize his lips again for a brief, searing kiss. “You’re wonderful.”

He blushed. “You’re amazing.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you. Breathe.”

“I’m fine,” she told him, “and I want _more_.”

“More breakfast? You really _are_ hungry today! I’ll just go…”

But he didn’t get to go anywhere as she pulled him down for another hard kiss, deeper this time, using her tongue to invite his into her mouth. She thought if she could grow claws, she would do so right now, to keep him here and make sure he didn’t get any more of these silly “leaving” ideas of his.

When she finally released him, she whispered against his lips, “I’m hungry for more of _you_ ,” and gently bit down on his lower lip for punctuation. She tugged it carefully, and let it slip from between her teeth reluctantly.

“Whatever you need, my love,” he swore like it was an oath of fealty.

Her heart was pounding. “I need so much I hardly know where to begin.” Her eyes flitted down along what she could see of his body; she could feel his erection against her thigh, and she shifted her legs apart a little more.

“Are you ready?”

“ _Very_ ,” she purred. “I _ache_ to have your cock inside me, Shiro.”

His cheeks flamed again, and she chuckled.

“It isn’t fair, your being sexy _and_ adorable.”

“I’ll have to work on that,” he said, grinning. “For the sake of justice.” He pushed himself up, the better to adjust and align his body with hers.

She licked her lips and raised her hips a little in offering, just as he began to move forward. It might have ended up awkwardly, but it was as if he knew she was going to do that, as if he’d planned for it, because he slid in easily, just a few inches.

She grunted. “You’re so much _thicker_ than I dreamed…”

“You dreamed of this? With me?”

“Of course I di-…ah!” As he pulled out and pulsed back in. “Do more of that.”

“Yes’m.” He did it again and then leaned down to kiss her and confess, “I’ve dreamed of you more nights than I can count.”

“Of making love to me?” she asked, waiting for the next thrust. When it came, she moved as well, rising to meet him. He got deeper this time.

“Yessss,” and she couldn’t tell if that was an answer or just a declaration.

She dropped her voice a little to ask, “Of _fucking_ me?” Another thrust, deeper still, as if her body were slowly devouring him.

“Yes,” he panted. “Allura…”

“Of taking me to the hilt and hearing me moan your name?”

“ _FUCK, Allura_ ,” from between gritted teeth. “Maker, you’re so…”

She grunted, focused on her work. She wanted him in all the way in. It almost _was_ a hunger.

The two of them had been a fighting unit for so long now, it was little surprise they knew how the other moved in battle. This was no war, but somehow she still could predict what he’d do next, and exactly how he’d do it. She adjusted for it, for him, and felt his cock sheathe itself perfectly inside her.

This sensation of being so utterly _filled_ , of knowing what he’d do and matching him movement for movement… she was at a loss for words. It felt as if she were a leaf floating on the surface of a lake of feelings and emotions. There was so much and all of it was wonderful.

She rose to meet his lips as he moved down to kiss her, and for a single, glowing moment, it was almost as if they were a single being, as if his heart truly beat in her own breast and hers in him. She wasn’t quite sure if she were the one filling or being filled, and she didn’t really care. She was with the man she loved.

And when he broke, he pulled out just enough to thrust in again, and she let her head fall back against the pillow. Partly as an experiment and partly because she just didn’t want to waste air on words, she focused herself on a thought.

_Fuck me, Shiro. I want to **feel** you._

And, Maker bless this wonderful man, he took hold of her hips and _obeyed._

They were direct thrusts at first, not hard or fast, but he built speed quickly as she mentally urged him on (and met his thrusts with her own body, of course – she was too impatient, too needy, to wait). This veteran of so many battles was sweating in no time as he pounded into her, and she gave up trying to keep her voice down. _Let the entire compound hear how fucking good this is! Oh Maker, Shiro, give me more!_ Not that she could manage words. It was as if each thrust increased her hunger for him.

She expected him to urge her to be quiet, but instead he joined her, his own moans of rapture mixing with hers. And in fleeting snatches of moments between her own pulses of ecstasy, she could feel something she could only have described as utterly _Shiro_ : his desire to sate her, his desire to sate himself within her, the love and the lust and the sheer joy at being here with her, now, like this. She even caught the edge of how much he loved it when she moaned his name, so she did more of it, and it made his tainted blood _sing_ , made him pull her body hard against his as he drove forward.

Her hands were claws in the bedsheets, her throat was dry from panting, but her body demanded more and more. She became aware that he was holding back, for her sake, and she released the bedclothes to latch onto him, to pull him down and purr in his ear, “Come inside me, Takashi. I _need_ it.”

That did it, and just the feeling of his cum filling her sent her over for her second time. Or maybe it was feeling his feelings? She wasn’t sure anymore, everything was hot and comfortably boneless now, reality bleeding back in around the edges slowly and reminding her she needed to breathe and that, as much as she loved Shiro, having him collapsed on top of her like this – as he seemed to have done at some point – wasn’t helping with that.

So she used the last of her strength to roll them over. He slipped out of her in the motion, and she was vaguely aware of the feel of cum leaking onto her thighs, but she didn’t really care. They were sort of next to each other, with one of her legs draped over one of his, and he was scraping for air, staring at the ceiling.

“So…,” he asked when he could manage to do so, “have I convinced you?”

She laughed when she remembered what he was asking about. It’d taken her a bit; her mind was still spinning happily on how _good_ that had all been. “I’m convinced. For now. We’ll see.”

“Ah, so I need to…” he paused to lick his dry lips and catch some more air, “…to convince you some _more_?”

She nodded. “Mmmm, definitely.”

“I think I can do that. Eventually.” He pressed a kiss into her hair.

“It might take a while.”

“I have better stamina than that!”

She laughed and nuzzled his neck. “I meant for you to convince me.”

“Oh. How long?”

“The rest of our lives?” she asked, trying to make it sound casual and not sure she succeeded. An edge of anxiety crept in, despite everything that had already been said and done.

But he just smiled and kissed her sweetly and told her, “That sounds wonderful.”

And she snuggled in to enjoy the warm contentment of having made love with a man so perfect for her she hadn’t even dared to dream he might exist. But he did, and he was here, and he was hers (as she was his), and they were going to be together for however long the corruption within them would allow.

**Author's Note:**

> [Grey Wardens Shallura Masterpost](https://braincoins.tumblr.com/post/189449565153/gorgeous-pic-by-mitzoco-3-dragon-age-shallura)


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